Later, Brooks drove me home.
The porch light was still on.
Inside, Camila sat at the kitchen table with the attorney’s papers spread in front of her. Two suitcases stood by the stairs. Lia’s eyes were red, and Jen wouldn’t look at me.
Camila’s phone lay face up beside the papers, lighting up again and again with messages she wasn’t answering.
Lia’s eyes were red, and Jen wouldn’t look at me.
On the table beside the papers was another envelope with my name in Dad’s handwriting.
I saw it the moment I walked in earlier that night… but I couldn’t open it yet. I wasn’t ready then, but I was now.
“Chels, if you’re reading this, it means you made it.”
You’re braver than you think.
Love, Dad.”
I pressed the note to my chest and looked around the quiet house.
